


The Awkward Declarations

by dubstep44



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 20:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubstep44/pseuds/dubstep44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keys to the flat one moment, the posh garden party the next, but Merlin still does better with more base forms of communications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Awkward Declarations

**Author's Note:**

> also posted on livejournal: http://dubstep44.livejournal.com/1262.html

Arthur was having a garden party, and Merlin and his bottle of vodka sat in the shade of the house. He'd politely extracted himself from conversation he was too drunk and dumb to follow, too working class as well, if he believed the sideways glances. The bottle had been on the buffet. Merlin had nicked things from the cornershop before so this was child's play. The alcohol went down easy.

"My father wanted to meet you, you know," Arthur said. Arthur who had not been there one moment and who blocked the sun the next before he crouched down in the V of Merlin's spread thighs.

Merlin's heart puttered around uselessly, full of silly things, when he looked at Arthur all sunkissed with his lips and brows crinkled.

"Not sure I'm fit company," Merlin brought out, making his lips form words.

Arthur smudged his thumb over Merlin's cheek, looking just lovely, as usual, then he took the bottle from Merlin and sat next to him. 

"You're supposed to use a glass," Merlin said when Arthur drank from the bottle, not quite sure where to file this bit of decadence in his library of Arthur facts. 

Earlier they'd sat in Merlin's room, naked and experimental with permanent markers each and drew treasure maps of their hopes and dreams on one another's bodies. Merlin's shit had been packed up already, the heat and electricity turned off, and Arthur's nipples had pebbled with the cold before Merlin had kissed them - first one, then the other, then his cock (of course).

Merlin reached across and pulled at Arthur's shirt until it slipped from his trousers. He'd written cunt above his hipbone and scumbag up his sternum because Arthur's heart to hearts were a bit of a queer affair. Given a choice Merlin would have shared his Stella for the awkward declarations, the insults were second-best. 

That Arthur was still wearing them meant more than the words of love all over Merlin's skin.

"He'll ask your opinion about cuts in education," Arthur said across the top of the bottle of vodka. He grinned when Merlin opened his trousers and pulled them down just enough. He didn't even glance back towards the party, past the hedge and bushes and buffet table, to see if anyone could see them.

"I'm a drop-out," Merlin said, as he pulled Arthur's briefs down and pressed his mouth to the trail of pubic hair. "What do I know?" Arthur smelled of sweat and musk and tasted of salt when Merlin sucked at the base of his cock, the tip still trapped inside the briefs.

"He thinks it's a... a thing."

"Hm?" Merlin curled his fingers around Arthur's cock and closed his lips around the tip then moved his mouth down. He traced the letters of his I Love Yous, the scumbag arse I hope you die, with his free fingers and closed his eyes even though it made him dizzy. Arthur shifted his hand to the back of Merlin's head and as much as he felt the pity shag and the poor boy dragged in for charity and good effect sometimes around Arthur's mates and family, when it was him and Arthur and their bodies all of that faded away. 

"You didn't wash it off," Arthur said. He scratched his fingers over the back of Merlin's neck, just underneath his collar. "Did you look at it?"

Merlin shook his head as he pushed Arthur's cock deeper into his mouth. It pressed at the back of Merlin's throat and lay heavy on his tongue and more importantly, shut him up enough to avoid making up a lie along the lines of who even cared about Arthur's mental ideas.

Merlin's three boxes had looked strange in the back of Arthur's car, stranger in the middle of Arthur's flat. Arthur had grabbed at Merlin hair and his shirt and had told him to shape up and shut up before Merlin had even said a word. 

Merlin hadn't stopped playing with the keys to the place in the pocket of his jeans since Arthur had handed them over and they weighed a ton in responsibility and debt.

Merlin took Arthur to the root and curled his fingers around Arthur's hip. Hot and heavy and warm, Arthur thrust up against his face until his pubes were pressed to Merlin's cheek and eye and Merlin was spluttering around him. Arthur held back, with the noises and with the movement, but Merlin curled his fingers around Arthur's balls and gently squeezed once and Arthur went off. He jerked like a puppet, arms flailing, puffing noises coming from his nose, and he came bitter and salty. Merlin sucked him through that, milked the come from his balls, then spit it into the grass next to them before he moved off Arthur's legs to sit back down next to him.

"Vodka?" Arthur asked.

Merlin took the bottle from him and sipped, burning the taste of come from his lips.

The truth was, Merlin had snuck out of bed to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The flat had been full of new noises and he was too hot with the cover and too cold without, restless and bored and dead tired all the same. He'd snuck out for a piss, maybe to laugh at some of Arthur's more pointless trophies in the corridor, but he'd caught a glimpse of the back of his neck.

Amidst the scrawl that Arthur called expressive art and Shakespeare or something quotes all over Merlin's body, Arthur had drawn a heart. Small and black and utterly random, it had sat at the back of Merlin's neck under the harsh bathroom lights. 

Merlin reached across and traced _cunt_ across Arthur's hipbone where his shirt was still pushed up and his trousers down, where his cock curled soft in the nest of pubic hair. 

"You'll have these all the time, won't you?" Merlin asked, sipping the vodka he'd have never bought himself. "These... things."

Arthur glanced out across the garden and back at Merlin. "Do you mind them?"

Merlin hesitated, then shrugged. "They're okay," he said. He played with the key in his pocket and the words on Arthur's body that made Arthur his, queer declarations of intent and all. "They're... very you," Merlin admitted. That was how it worked, wasn't it? Warts and all.


End file.
